Monday, May 31, 2010

A Distraction

He stopped writing, the fans had paused  they were relaxing due to the absence of that was needed to run them. He wiped out the sweat from his forehead with left thumb. Very hot though it was morning 10 am of the last day of the 5th month of English calender. the environment was less noisy and he released a gush of air through his mouth out of exhaustion, glanced at the finger that had turned red for holding the pen for a long time.

In the room no sounds, except the foot steps of the one who was walking along the 3 columns of space between the 4 columns of  benches. And some times a very unpleasant disturbance was created for the imbalance in the pressure on the bench because of the unsymmetrical length of the benches. Silence. He gazed at the tall sexy legs of the girl sitting opposite to him. 'No distraction,' he thought being already distracted.


Sitting on the first bench he saw the others, how desperately they were jotting down on the paper. Their heads were down as if they were connected to the pen and the strings stored in the buffer of the brain was being scripted on the paper. he looked forward. The lawn. It was being watered with the help of a rotating sprayer & the silence of the surrounding was so deep that he could hear the hissing of the sprayer. It reminded him the song of  Pink Floyd 'keep talking'. He sang the line within himself  'silence surrounding...'. There was no talking. And there stood the unmovable mountain about a few hundred meters away from his physical presence.


What if a man had to move round round like a fan goes during a day? What would be his condition? The classrooms were also silent. Once they made a lot of noise. The situation was as if someone was dead & all were mourning becoz of his loss.


He remembered, last year he was sitting at the same place, same bench. But the time was different. It was afternoon around 4pm and then the wind blew heavily and it started raining immediately after that. There a storm had already begun. He was going through a tough situation, which caused him a heavy expense. He had left the place just after an hour.


'Why do these ideas get into the brain now?' he was back, the four fans that were in the room were back to their job and everyone sighed in relief. A smile played on his lips. 'Come on, you gotta do it,' he held the pen again, 'a little more pain, my hand'. He went through the printed text they had provided known as question paper & 20 more marks to write, one more hour left.  He was in the same exam hall now and one year back. The misery will continue. He started writing.

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